When I was about 10 all I wanted to do was play baseball, day and night. If nobody was around to play then the games would be in my head, totally imaginary, against the back of the house with a tennis ball. And I kept score. Sometimes I would even lose. As I grew older, the guitar replaced the glove and bat. I played that thing 24-7. Sold out shows in Cleveland or Chicago were waiting for me in front of the mirror as the stereo blasted away. Just as before, I'd totally lose myself in it. Sometimes some things at perfect moments are better than life itself. For me, that was baseball at 10, the guitar at 15, and today, October 11, 2005, sleep. (Once after a gig in Georgia with my pal C. Baxter Carter (editor of The Link), that perfect something was a cold porkchop at 2 AM.) Yes, I'm tired, very tired. Besides the usual band load, I'm selling my house. Soon I will be homeless. Just another load to carry as I must find a new house to buy. And I know me, so it will be an arduous hunt for something that is something I don't even have a clear picture of. Oh well, there are things much much worse in life. Baseball, music, and sleep (and a cold porkchop from time to time if it's late and I'm a little hammered) have remained a constant escape for me, infact, it might just be because of baseball (staying up late in October to watch is a given) and music (we're getting busier, if that's possible), that I need sleep... and maybe a cold porkchop, from time to time. BMS&PC, that's my recipe for life. Take care. Later, Butch
P.S. Cubs'll get'em next year, just you wait and see!